Dearest of Aslan
by SunshineInSpring
Summary: "After all, Lucy is not a little girl," - Peter and Edmund consider the implications of Lucy's status as the dearest of Aslan, what this might mean, and how their sister is more than she appears.


**A/N: Hello! I haven't posted in a while, so bare with me here! This is also my first fic for Narnia, though I was fairly pleased with the outcome. This is set, in my mind, after Prince Caspian, although really could be at any point after LWW, and is mostly movie-verse! This is really just an exploration of Peter and Edmund's contemplation of how Lucy is the dearest of Aslan, and what that might actually mean- how she is not just a little girl, but has wisdom beyond her age. Let me know what you think with a review, and please enjoy!**

Lucy is not a little girl. Peter doesn't know if he can quite remember if anyone had thought that she ever was, even before Narnia, and concludes that he had always known Lucy was different. Had known she was meant for something beyond the city and the war (if that would ever end). Peter supposed Narnia was just proof.

He himself had been made "Magnificent" by Aslan (the only one from whom Peter would accept the moniker). He had been forged from fear and battles, boyishness stripped away to expose the king beneath. Narnia had smoothed Susan's edges, carved her a role, away from the changing fashions and expectations of her in society, away from the fear of bombs in the city, away from the role of 'mother' in the country. Narnia had made Susan "Gentle". Edmund had been trialled, his heart judged, the verdict given by the ultimate jury and found "Just". No longer the bitter boy, Narnia had made Edmund a wise man- no, a king.

But Lucy. Lucy had always been Valiant.

It is something most find shocking when they first look past the schoolgirl grin, first gaze into those eyes, so young and yet oh! So old! There is a knowledge hidden there, peeking out at the edges. Lucy is a Queen- Peter knows this. She was always the dearest of Aslan, for after all, He gave her the Eastern Sea, which, Peter ponders, is well known to be the entrance to Aslan's Country.

Perhaps, thinks Peter, one dark night, Lucy is not quite of their world. Perhaps she is more Narnian than she ever let on.

Edmund scoffs a little when Peter utters these musings aloud. However, this has been playing on Peter's mind for too long to go unmarked, and Susan's logical nature (though always well intended) would predispose her to dismissing the idea. Initially, though, Edmund's rather automatic response is one Peter would have expected from Susan; "Aslan would never allow-" Except, Edmund thinks, (and voices aloud later, once he has considered this fully – it is Edmund's nature to think first and act later, when he is certain), that he is sure that Aslan would allow entry to His heart to any. Maybe Lucy is the only one who has proved herself truly worthy. Lucy, who had always believed, Lucy who had trusted in the new world she had found herself in and had loved it from the start. Lucy who was the Queen of the folk of Narnia as much as she was the land. Aslan had always shown Himself to her first. And Lucy had always seen Him- she had always been looking. This is true, Edmund knows; Aslan loves everyone, in both Narnia and in the Pevensie's world. But Lucy loves Aslan the most, of anyone.

"After all," Poses Edmund after explaining this train of thought to Peter a week later. They had sat themselves on a bench, quietly discussing the matter whilst still fully able to observe Lucy conversing with a very elderly man, as though they shared exactly the same life experiences (the gentleman, who's loneliness is etched across every ounce of his being, and had found support and understanding from none, is left flawed, and gladdened in a way he cannot explain).

"After all, Lucy is not a little girl."

 _Lucy means light. Darkness cannot hold fast whilst a light burns so vividly and valiantly as Lucy does._

Peter agrees, eyes on his sister, who, though she is most certainly not within hearing distance of her brothers sat on their bench in the park, turns, smiles and nods to them knowingly. And, carried on a warm breeze is a bare whisper of a roar. Peter turns to Edmund and the look in his eyes confirms that Edmund hears it too. The two settle into back into an easier conversation, and a wash of comforting warmth settles around their hearts.

Lucy smiles as she comes back to the pair, face upturned to the wind. There are words of comfort and support readily available to any on her tongue, phrases that ease the minds of any who ask, and all who don't. There is a knowledge in her eyes, Aslan in her heart, and Narnia in her soul.

After all, Lucy is not a little girl.

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed, leave a review to let me know, and hopefully I'll be back soon with another fic!**


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